The King's Incident
by Dryce
Summary: It has been two years since the events and closing of Case 463. In that time, Naoto and Sebastian have been working for Reign-Beaux. Unfortunately for the both of them, a stir in the shadow world has forced them into action as an abuse of power has forced the organizations hand. But there are other figures at work this time and a question of conviction will soon arise with new pain
1. Prologue

**(It is worthy of note beforehand that this is a sequel to my previous story Case 463 and it would be best for that to be read before getting involved in this story)**

 **Time Until Incident:**

 **1 year: 10 months: 6 days: 11 hours: 47 minutes**

 **Time until** **Déchaîner**

 **3 years: 1 month: 0 days: 0 hours: 18 minutes:**

The polished brass of the door handle felt cool as she wrapped her slender fingers around it and gripped it tightly in her hand; and yet she found it hard to find the strength to push the door open and begin her evening with the empty headed and short sighted fools on the other side of the poorly painted blue door with which the handle was attached. She thought if she gripped it a little tighter that the strength of her hand would spur forth the rest of her body; but she just stood there, gripping the handle tightly in her fingers. The tight squeeze was causing her arm to hurt and the lock up of the muscles traveled to her jaw where she clenched her teeth tightly. She took a deep breath through those teeth and slowly pried her hand off the knob, clenching and unclenching her fingers a few times to stop the pain.

She stared down at the knob for a little longer than she should have and found her thoughts wondering. The folders under her other arm felt heavier all of a sudden and she let the arm that carried them relax at her hip rather than her side. She sighed and closed her eyes as she tried to relax, her free hand coming to rub at her eyes. She hadn't slept last night because of this. All that had been on her mind was talking to these dullards. And now that she was here, she couldn't find the strength to take the first step.

Taking a step back from the door, she ignored the sound of her black heels on the shiny tile flooring and just focused on gathering up her strength as she began to pace outside of it. She was glad no one was around to see her like this. She was glad she had kept her underlings away from this meeting. If any of them saw her like this, it was possible the years of attempting to keep up a strong image would be shattered in the blink of an eye. She couldn't have that.

She was going to be late. She couldn't have that either.

Taking another few laps back and forth in front of the door, she once again gripped the doorknob and tried to turn it. She still lacked the strength. Or perhaps it was conviction. It had taken months to get this far and now she was miles away from where she needed to be which was simply on the other side of the door. She closed her eyes.

Then came a feeling as a strong slender arm wrapped around her stomach and the being pressed itself behind her and into her back. She wasn't sure if the feeling was a memory or just a forever absent fondness. Slowly her eyes opened and she stared down at the knob in her hand. She felt his hand over hers, gripping her fingers tightly; not out of strength, but support. She nodded her head.

"Give me strength…"

With a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open and stepped onto the blue rug beneath her heels, walking calmly towards the podium at the end of it. All signs of weakness gone, all hesitation left her walk and body language. Her fear and nervousness was left at the door. She was back.

The room was vacant save for a few all too familiar faces. Three men and one woman sat at a large curved desk at the end of the room. The large room was vacant save for the few people who she had expected. Out of all the nearly one-hundred members and faces this room held on a daily basis, the ones in front of her were the only ones that mattered to her or anyone else wanting something done; or in her case, just wanting something.

The speaker, an older man with short black hair and a birthmark on his right cheek, spoke through the microphone that had been placed in front of him.

"Miss Mitsuru Kirijo, please step forward"

She took her long white fur coat off and placed it across one of the chairs after placing her folders on her little podium stand. Her dark eyes scanned the members of the little gathering, sizing them up. Poor things did not understand that they were about to make history. She stepped up to the podium and spread apart the three folders she brought across the little platform, taking a moment to appreciate the little bottle of spring water they had left for her. She suppressed the smile and looked up to the group, folding her hands on the stand after adjusting her microphone.

"Director Kirijo, if you don't mind"

The woman of the group, at least in her eighties looked over her glasses at Mitsuru

"I beg your pardon?"

Mitsuru leaned in closer to the microphone.

" **Director** Kirijo, if you don't mind. I worked very hard for that title and I intend to flaunt it"

The woman stared at her for a moment before making something down on her paper. Whatever it was, Mitsuru knew two things. First, it wasn't nice; and second, she didn't care. This woman was going to be the problem in this conversation.

The man with the birthmark spoke into the microphone again.

"Director Kirijo, I cannot imagine how many favors you had to call in or how many phone calls you had to make in order to set this meeting up. I am certain a lot of effort went into whatever plan you have come up with requiring myself and my fellow representatives. So why don't we speak like adults and get to the point, shall we?"

Mitsuru bowed her head slightly and opened one of her folders, drawing out four sets of three sheets of paper. She approached the bench and handed each of the members one of the sets before returning to the podium, awaiting the oncoming assault. One of the delegates, a fat middle-aged man with assumedly dangerously high blood pressure due to his red skin, pulled the glasses off his face to look at the director. She took a drink of water.

"Director Kirijo, I am almost certain I am reading this incorrectly"

She shook her head.

"And I, representative, am almost certain you **are** "

The final man of the group, a younger man with black hair and an ear ring let the pages drop onto the desk, leaning into the microphone

"I don't understand, Director. Why are you even here?"

He picked up the pages

"Are you expecting us to sign off on this?"

She nodded her head slowly

The woman, who was still looking at the report, spoke absent-mindedly as she continued to read. Her words caused the fat man and the young man with the ear ring to look across the desk at her

"And how many would you be needing for this project to get off the ground, Director?"

Perhaps she had been wrong about the woman and the problems she would be facing from her.

"No more than seven members, mam"

"Those being?"

The woman flipped to the last page as Mitsuru opened the second folder, taking another four sets of three pages out, handing them to the delegates once again before returning to her podium.

"Two muscle, one thief, two hand to hand experts, one sharp shooter, and one to lead them"

The young man spoke

"And where do you plan to get these people?"

"Page two of the second set of papers explains our potential targets and where they can be found as well as how we intend to bring them into our proposed project."

There was a quiet shuffling of papers as they searched through the second set of documents. The young man tossed them away from him after reading the proposal

"I respectfully refuse, director"

She knew at least one of them would and looked to the fat man as he wiped his brow with a red handkerchief he pulled from his jacket pocket.

"Under normal circumstances, Director Kirijo, I would be only too happy to pass any proposal you brought forth. But I am afraid I must agree with my colleague here when I say that I cannot allow such a project to be funded"

Two of four had decided where their loyalties were and denied her. She wondered what the two older delegates would decide. The older man set the pages down after a moment and removed his reading glasses, chewing on the edge of them out of habit when he was thinking. The woman on the other hand kept going back and forth between the two sets of documents, cross referencing the wording of the paragraphs to put together the plan in her head. She sighed after a moment and set the paperwork down, stacking the sets of documentation before propping her head up on her hands. The man spoke to her

"What do you think, Margret?"

The woman was quiet for a moment before looking back down at the paperwork again, opening the first page

"We have started a lot of fights, Jerald. So many lives lost, so many people without jobs, so many left in abject poverty. But it was always for the greater good. A few always have to suffer for the greater good of the people…"

She looked up to Mitsuru

"How many are we looking to save should the project be successful, Director?"

Mitsuru smiled slightly to the woman. She understood.

"If the project goes forward as described in the second set of documentation, no lives should be lost so long as it is running. It will take a few years for the project to become operational what with the building of facilities and necessary manpower. There is also the consideration of only certain trusted individuals being at the forefront of the project. It will take time to weed out those trusted individuals from the ranks at the organization and our partners.

This is, after all, dangerous territory and it will take some time and possibly a few lives in order to get a foothold. But once that foothold is obtained, construction can begin and the project's second phase will take off from there. Once the projects key members are together, phase three will be initialized and, as long as it is kept running, there should be no lives lost from then on should everything go according to our data"

The woman stared off into space on her desk as Mitsuru spoke. It was at least two or three minutes before anyone responded. The woman was first.

"I am voting to back the project so long as you can guarantee results."

The man took a moment to gather himself, but responded quietly with a nod

"I too will back the project, Director. We cannot, after all, always make the easy decisions when it comes to human lives. I may not like it, but sacrifices must be made sometimes. I too vote yay"

The young man was in shock for a moment before leaning into the microphone

"You can't be serious! These are human lives you are dealing with. They aren't even soldiers and you are just going to let this…pompous wretch, sway your judgment with some silly plans out of the twilight zone?"

As the man turned back to look at the director, he ducked as an object flew past his head and smacked against the wall. The water bottle. As he turned back to face her, her strong hands reached over the edge of the large desk and grabbed him by the trim of his jacket, pulling him over the desk and onto the floor.

He was winded when he hit the ground, the impact on the carpet forcing all the air in his lungs to disappear. The man drew his legs to his stomach as he crossed his hands over his chest. He couldn't breathe and coughed several times after a large gulp of air. Mitsuru made her way back to the podium and grabbed the third folder she had brought.

The man backed up against the desk as she approached; afraid she was going to stomp on him to hit him again. She was much tougher than she looked. The older woman and the older man stayed seated. The fat man didn't want to move.

Mitsuru opened the folder and began to toss photos at the man as she read off their names. Each face, each name, represented a murder than had taken place in the last four years. Each picture displayed a body hanging from a street lamp or telephone pole, satellite dish or television antenna. Bodies wrapped in electrical wire that had been burned due to contact and had melted under the effects of the energy and fire. Men, women, and children.

"Graveyards full of people!"

Mitsuru screamed at him, the man cowering.

"All murdered by someone with a simple unique ability and deciding to flaunt it and take advantage of it. All of them having families who cared for them! Blood has been spilt!"

She tossed the remainder of the folder down at the man who still had his arms up to protect his face and head, drawn up like a child being abused. It was a shame she enjoyed it. Maybe it was because of the way he had spoken to her. Maybe it was his attitude. She walked back to her podium after staring the fat man back down into his seat who had risen to tend to his fellow delegate.

"People are dying because of this. My project makes it so that this kind of thing never happens again; to ensure that these sorts of mass murders never take place again. Don't you think I understand the question of morality in this? Don't you think I understand what I will look like in the eyes of the public if they ever learn? I will go down in history as a monster!"

Mitsuru took a moment to gather herself and straightened her hair. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regretting she had thrown the water bottle now.

"I can fund this project on my own. I don't need anyone's help with the question of the budget. However, I do need permission for such a project to exist. That is the only reason I came here today was to get permission. I ask for funds from you because at least then you too have your hands dirty. And, in the long run, you will have a piece to control albeit small."

She folded up the two remaining folders on her podium and stacked them neatly.

"I lost something very important to me due to my work; someone very dear. I know what it feels like to have no one to blame but knowing the force that did it; which is more than I can say for the families of the souls that were taken. The projects' purpose is to save lives and I am going to do it with or without the full cooperation of this council."

There was silence in the room as the storm passed, her eyes crossing over the faces of the four individuals at the desk. The older woman cleared her throat

"All in favor?"

She and the older man raised their hand in the air. After a moment, the fat man raised his hoof as well. Mitsuru looked to the man on the floor and stared him down to look again at the pictures on the floor. Surrounded by death, the man raised his hand slowly.

"The proposal is unanimously adopted. Congratulations, Director Kirijo. We look forward to hearing your reports."

Mitsuru bowed her head slightly and put her long white coat back on before picking up her folders.

"I appreciate the cooperation of this council and will report the moment some sort of movement is made worthy of note. Until next time, councilors"

The older man spoke.

"And have a good trip home, Director Kirijo"

With a slight increase in speed to her step, Mitsuru made her way back up the carpeted walkway to the door and pushed it open, her heels once again clacking on the tile as she made her way to the door. But once she heard the door close behind her, she broke into a run for the front door as her mouth began to salivate. The adrenaline was wearing off and she barely made it outside before she leaned over a flowerbed in the garden and vomited, careful not to get any on her shoes or her coat. She pulled her hair back with her free hand before she did it again, spitting against the flowers as she shuddered.

 **Time Until Incident:**

 **1 year: 10 months: 6 days: 10 hours: 32 minutes**

 **Time until Déchaîner**

 **3 years: 0 months: 31 days: 23 hours: 3 minutes:**


	2. Chapter 1

**Time Until Incident:**

 **1 year: 8 months: 6 days: 9 hours: 46 minutes**

 **Time until** **Déchaîner**

 **2 years: 11 month: 31 days: 10 hours: 17 minutes:**

For however long she had been looking, her eyes had been drawn to the small details of her skin as she moved her fingers in front of her blue eyes. Slowly she curled them into a fist and slowly still to unclench them, stretching them out as she held her hand out to the nightlight to watch them move. Was this really still her hand? Did it belong to her?

The young girl pressed her palm against the underside of the spring bunk above her, her lower body propped up on top of her pillows to allow her hand to touch the underside of the mattress without having to hold herself up on one of her arms or on her stomach muscles. If she truly wanted to observe, she needed to at least be comfortable. These were all new feelings to her.

She ran her palm slowly up and down the material at her fingertips, lost in the sensation that it always gave her. It was as though her entire body could feel the material that only touched her fingertips. Often times she would use it to relax before going to bed. She was bullied at school for always wearing gloves. It was the sensations that always got to her. The feelings of so many things at her fingertips made her head spin, made her queasy, and made her heart race.

She hated it.

The bullying she could deal with. She wasn't a strong girl, but she was tough. She could handle her own. Even Lucy Galiger, that blond meanie, wouldn't be able to keep her down. If fists started to fly, she would keep getting up to show that mean girl who was the boss; or at least, to leave her alone. She just wanted to be left alone.

As another hour passed on, she let her hand fall from the bunk and fall against the warm sheets of her bed and she curled onto her side. She had school tomorrow. She needed to get to sleep. She was having such trouble with that now. She never used to. Then again, she never used to have problems with touch. She missed being able to hold her sandwich at lunch, to hold a boy's hand, or to play in the sand; but not anymore. Those days, she was certain, were over.

Then a small voice crossed her mind.

" _ **What is wrong, my lovely?"**_

She didn't want to respond. As much as she hated that voice and the creature it belonged to, she loved it so terribly it almost brought her to tears. Her safety blanket. Her teddy bear. What a thing for an eight year old to have a teddy bear she clung to so desperately.

"My tummy hurts…"

" _ **Lie on your back, sweetheart. You'll feel better. I'll help"**_

"I don't want your help…"

The voice, slow and wet, slippery and slimy, smacked its thick lips together and let out a small cry in an overdramatic whine. Like a soap opera where the actor had no idea how to display sadness.

It was as irritating as it always was. Like a baby on a plane that just kept screaming. She put her hands over her ears to try and block out the noise but was unable to silence the creature.

"Stop. Stop crying, please!"

The figure on the top bunk shifted, leaning down over the edge, the body without details in the blackness of the room

"Anna. Shut up. I can't sleep"

The little girl looked up to the shadowy figure, her older sister.

"I'm sorry. I had a bad dream"

The figure sighed and rolled back over onto their bunk, pressing itself against the wall.

"Stop being so weird. I can't wait to get my own room…"

Anna, unable to calm the creature down in the bedroom, pulled back the sheets of her bed and placed her bare feet on the cold carpet as she tried to find her frog slippers. The crying in her head got louder as she slowly made her way to the door of her shared bedroom, using her feet to sweep the carpet in front of her as not to trip over anything. She didn't like making her big sister angry.

It never came easy, her sisters affection. But she knew her sister loved her through the weirdness. It was complicated and frustrating.

As she made her way into the hallway of the second floor, she eventually found the staircase going downstairs. She descended the staircase to the lower floor and tried her best to find the bathroom in the darkness. Mom and dad were asleep. Dad had wine with dinner and mom used earplugs to block out his snoring. She wasn't afraid of waking them. She needed to go to the bathroom. She needed someplace quiet to talk to him.

Closing the door behind her, she turned on the lights of the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, the crying inside her head having calmed down a little bit. Instead, now it was sniffling loudly; the wetness of its body making rather unpleasant sounds inside her head. At first they had been funny to listen to when she first began speaking with it, but when a joke was told more than three times, it was no longer funny. After three years of it, it was dull and irritating. It was difficult keeping the creature calm and happy. It was incredibly sensitive. Like a child. She was raising a child.

"Stop. Stop crying. I can't sleep when you cry"

" _ **I'm only making it wo-o-o-orse!"**_

It's whimpering and bawling was making it hard to be understood. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to be an adult about this. She needed to calm it down.

"Liquorice, why are you so upset?"

The creature took a deep breath as it cried

" _ **You don't love me anymore! I only make things worse! You hate me"**_

Anna stood up from her seat and looked at herself in the mirror. Before speaking to the creature, she moved her red hair out of her eyes and pushed it behind her ear. She pulled the elastic from her hair and gathered it back up in her hands, retying it. Moving around in bed must have knocked it loose.

"I don't hate you, Liquorice. How could I? You're my best friend. One of my only friends"

The creature sucked back a long snuffle. She felt a small giggle leave her lips. It was still, kind of, funny.

" _ **R-r-really?"**_

She smiled at her reflection, crossing a finger across the left side of her chest

"Cross my heart and hope to die. But can you please stop crying? I can't sleep when you get upset. And you know how easily you get upset."

She could feel the creature sink inside itself as it listened, feeling a little guilty and ashamed.

" _ **I'm sorry…"**_

Anna smiled and kissed her fingertips before pressing them to the reflection of her forehead. The voice giggled and rolled around a bit inside of her even though she could still feel its disappointment and desire for reconciliation. She tapped the glass a few times before turning off the lights to the bathroom, making her way out into the hallway.

The sudden switch from light to darkness made her temporarily blind in the darkness of her hallway as she made her way to the living room around the corner. The only sound came from the large grandfather clock that rested against the far wall behind the front door of the small two story suburban home.

That unnerved her as she placed her hand on the banister. She didn't hear the dog bark or snore or even stir as she had gone to the bathroom. The dog was always there to make sure the house was ok. If her dad passed gas in bed, the dog would be there to make sure everything was ok. How strange it was that the dog hadn't come to the bathroom door to check on her.

Walking back down the hallway and towards the kitchen, Anna ran her hand along the wall, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The only light she could focus on was the blinking time on the microwave which always read 12:00.

"Suzy?"

She called out for the dog, but no response. No jingling of a collar or murr of concern or question. She entered the kitchen and turned on the lights against the wall. When the lights turned on, she saw her dog, a little Jack Russell, lying in its little hamper. It wasn't moving but it was breathing. She rushed to the dog, shaking it.

"Suzy? Are you ok?"

The sting in her neck broke her concentration on her dog as the syringe planted itself into her neck. She tried to scream but a gloved hand cupped over her mouth to stifle the noise. She tried to flail, but the person that grabbed her held her close and she couldn't get loose.

The room began to spin and stretch around her and her muscles began to get weaker as her struggling faded slowly and eventually her eyes became too heavy and she fell limp in her attackers' arms. As she was carried from the kitchen, her slippers fell from her feet; the last remnants she would leave for her family in the morning.

Monsters are often born out of tragedy.

-Elsewhere-

Corporal Felix Andre sat quietly in the office of his Master Sergeant, a surprisingly fat man with a large overbite and a black mustache. How he became an MS with that kind of physique, Felix would never know. Still, the man was willing to give Felix another opportunity to serve his country, so he was going to try and be polite.

Felix took his hat off and wiped his brow with the back of his white glove. Felix, a man of African American decent, knew what struggle was. He had been born into it; molded by hardship and cunning. He placed his hat back onto his head and let his hand fall slowly down along his cheek, stroking burn marks and knife scars along the left side of his face. It calmed him down to stroke them, and right now he needed to be as calm as he could be. He had been waiting fifteen minutes and there was no air conditioning in this room. Summers in Arkansas were hot as hell.

Then came a snorting sound from his head, the sound deep and metallic like breathing through an iron tube. There was a creaking of metal that made him wince a bit, the sound hurting the space behind his eyes. He leaned forward in his seat and rubbed them to dull the pain. It kind of helped

" _ **What is taking that fat slab of meat?"**_

Felix leaned back in his seat and tried to relax again, tugging down on his crisp uniform to straighten it. Always respect the uniform.

"I don't know, but if ya keep yelling then I'm going to blow the only chance we got at getting back to the field. Ya hear? You wanna go home and end up workin at some shitty part time burger joint? I sure as hell don't wanna"

" _ **That is no excuse for being rude and late. We arrived right when we were supposed to. On time. Punctual. And yet we sit here waiting"**_

Felix closed his eyes tightly when the beast inside his head began to pace, its heavy form thundering around inside his head on heavy feet. It let out a long and loud groan as it grew more impatient, feeling the need to move.

"Colchis, stop it, man. We aint gonna make it back in if I can't concentrate on being proper. Ya need to calm down. If ya sit still for just fifteen more minutes, I promise I'll go to the gym later"

The beast huffed a few times and snorted.

" _ **Is that a promise?"**_

"I promise"

The animal sank down into the deepest pits of Felix's mind, slowly, unhappily.

"Thank you"

" _ **Always trust the word of a knight"**_

Felix felt his body instinctively jump up from his seat as the door to the office opened. As the MS entered, Felix snapped to attention and saluted the fat man with the cut on his lip. The man was in his late forties, black mustache that he should never have had. There were certain people that could handle one; his superior was not one of them. Felix could never get over the look of it. Like someone from high school who thought they looked good with it but ended up looking like some form of sexual predator.

"At ease, Mr. Andre"

Felix dropped the salute and stayed standing

"Have a seat…"

"Thank you, sir"

Felix sat down near the front of his seat, tugging down on the edge of his uniform as the fat man walked around to the back of his desk, a large file folder in brown on the bottom of a much thinner and smaller file folder in manila. Felix eyed them for a moment before returning his eyes forward. The fat man pulled the large brown one over the smaller manila one and opened it up. Felix cringed internally. It was his record.

The fat man skimmed through several of the pages near the end, those being the more recent. He sighed as he read through them, chewing on the inside of his cheek. God he was ugly. Like sexual predator on the news ugly. The kind of man that if he was ever incarcerated and his mug shot was shown in a newspaper or on the television, everyone watching it would say "Of course he is a _. What else could he be?"

The man pulled a few pages and a smaller folder from the larger one, opening it up to several pictures of several men in hospital beds, broken in the face and along the head, their swollen facial features wrapped in bandages. Felix straightened as the man spoke

"Three broken noses, a shattered femur, two broken arms, nine broken ribs, a punctured lung, eighteen missing teeth, a fractured jaw, a shattered jaw, and three broken fingers…"

The man tossed the pictures onto the desk for Felix to see. He didn't even look down to them. He knew his own handiwork.

"I would be lying if I said we didn't train you properly, son"

Felix wasn't sure if he was to take that as a compliment or not. On the one hand, four men were in a military hospital now because of him. On the other, he did incorporate their training in order to see it done. The fat man leaned back in his seat, hands crossed over his stomach.

"A trial had been set for you in the coming week, son. Open and shut case as far as the prosecutor was concerned; as far as all of us were concerned as a matter of fact. Going away for a long time. Military training often does that to a person when assault is considered; more prison time."

For whatever reason, Felix wasn't scared. It surprised him as well. He was looking at the next forty to sixty years behind bars for what he had done to his fellow soldiers. He had long given up trying to convince anyone that he was only defending himself. No one would believe him. At the same time, after being dishonorably discharged pending the trial, he had expected nothing less and perhaps had mentally prepared for this.

But there was something wrong with the way the man was speaking…

"Sir, you are speaking in past tense"

The man rocked slowly back and forth in his seat rather than nodding. He closed the file and pushed it away leaving the manila folder on the desk. It was very thin. Felix assumed it had maybe one or two sheets of paper inside. The fat man pushed the envelope towards Felix who tried to take it, but his superior kept his hand on top of it, preventing him from picking it up.

"My superiors came out of their office today looking like they had seen a ghost, Corporal. The four of them were in their office taking a phone call from someone. I don't know who and I don't want to know; some woman. They walked into their office to take the call looking like they always had, and walked out looking like they had been prisoners for nine months. Then one of them ran for the fax machine to get this before anyone could see it.

Whoever was on the other line asked for you specifically. Said that you were in a bad place right now and she had an out for you."

Felix didn't understand but took the folder as the man let go of it.

"What's in the folder, sir?"

"I don't know. They won't tell me. But what I do know is that if I hear word one of whatever is in there, I'm likely to be looking at the inside of a cell for the rest of my life. At least that's what my superiors threatened me with. So tell me something"

Felix opened the folder to the documents inside.

"What makes you so god damn special?"

Felix skimmed over the pages of the document. It was straight forward and honest. No black bars or big words used to hide truths. He looked up at his superior.

"I don't want this, sir. I want to return to my squad and get back into the field"

The man leaned forward on his desk

"Look, corporal, whoever's hand wrote that is being guided by the prince of darkness himself. There **is** no returning. There is only what is in that folder"

"What happens if I decline, sir?"

"Then the trial goes forward, you will most likely be found guilty, and spend the rest of your life behind bars…"

Felix took a moment to himself to digest and chew over what the man was saying before he looked back into the folder. This was something different. The pain in his eyes returned and he clenched his jaw to deal with the pain.

" _ **Take the deal, Felix…"**_

Felix sighed again, miserable, angry, disappointed. He slumped in his seat, letting his situation smother him.

The army had been the closest thing he had to a life and a family. He had no friends to call his own but was always happy on the field. It had forced a psychiatric evaluation from his superiors since he seemed the calmest in times of stress and panic on the field. He was an outcast because of it. People found him strange and tried not to become involved with him. So friends were out of the question.

The army had always been his family; the core and his superiors being his loving mothers and fathers to help mold and guide his hand. And now they were giving him an assignment to leave them and venture into unknown territory. He had a sickening feeling in his stomach as he knew no one could help him understand the mission because no one was allowed to read this dossier. He was alone heading into territory to deal with things the men and woman that surrounded him would never understand or believe. He was heading back to the shadows.

"I understand, Sir…"

-Elsewhere-

Ease, care, delicacy. It wasn't that the flower was expensive; it was simply that it looked delicate and was very pretty. Alexis Gelera sat at his kitchen table, the potted plant in front of him, bobbing gently as he spritzed the leaves and petals of the red and purple Gloriosa plant. He turned the pot to get the back side, unsure if he even needed to sprits them. They weren't very fragile either, as flowers. They simply looked it and he wanted to give them the tender care they needed.

Alexis was a middle aged man in his late thirties. He had short brown hair and blue eyes with a small scar on right hand from a small misadventure in his gardening. He loved gardening. The tender care of nurturing beautiful plants was something he took great pride in. His most enjoyed time was right at this very moment; sitting at his kitchen table, playing with his little plant, listening to the radio. Simple. Peaceful. Just like his plants.

A previously married man, Alexis now had much more income to spare and was currently saving up for a Kinabalu orchid to add to his collection. He assumed that, unless he won the lottery, that the more expensive flowers would have to wait and remain out of his hands. A shame really.

As he pulled a small weed budding from the inside of the flower pot, there came a sigh that made him smile. With steady hands, he was careful to make sure he pulled the weed out by the root and not have it snap off for him to return to it in the later weeks. The sigh returned again and he smiled a little brighter.

"Ok ok. What's wrong?"

It was a woman's voice that returned to him. It was soothing and gentle, caring. As far as he was concerned, bad marriage aside, this was the only woman for him.

" _ **You have been spending a lot of time with your babies lately."**_

"Little jealous, are we?"

" _ **I am not!"**_

Alexis rubbed his hands together to get the little dirt on them off as he leaned back to look at his plant.

"Well stop being jealous. I can't hold a conversation with my plants, Vegas. Remember that."

There was a moment of silence.

" _ **You haven't called me by name in some time, Alexis"**_

He turned the plant a few times before picking it up and heading out into his back yard to put it back in his little greenhouse. He remembered watching a television show from America several years back where a shut in had a greenhouse in the back room of his home. If he didn't like going into his greenhouse so much, he would have considered turning one of the rooms on the second floor of his house. Fleeting dream and he wasn't a shut in.

Alexis was a professor of Heidelberg University; a unique talent in biochemistry. He couldn't teach if he was a shut in and couldn't procure any rare or expensive plants if he was a shut in. he would have killed for an opportunity to get a Kadupul flower and always hoped someone would mention something to him about obtaining one. Another fleeting dream.

"I know I haven't. I feel that I should call you by name more often. Otherwise all the little pet names I give you start to wear off. It is much like when a couple says 'I love you' too often. It begins to wear down. I don't want to wear down my names for you. You call the person you care for by their name"

The sigh turned into a smile and he felt warm slender arms wrap around him in a tight embrace.

" _ **I love you too"**_

It was a strange concept to be in love with a voice in your head. Two years ago when it had first started, Alexis had gone to several doctors and taken several tests to ensure he was not yet going insane. Perhaps it was a malformation in his brain and he was hallucinating, or dementia was settling in early. But no. all tests had proven he was quite sane and of sound mind and body. So rather than fight it, as he had done for several weeks, he accepted it.

It had ruined his marriage, but he was certain he was happier now. Happier with someone who understood him, accepted him for his faults, and always tried to help and make him happy. In the end, isn't that what a relationship is all about?

He set the plant down on the second shelf of three that ran along the perimeter of the inside of the greenhouse. Many of the plants were in mid bloom and not as nice as his newest addition. But to an outsider, it was lovely.

It was hot outside. Hot enough to burn the grass of his backyard. He hated when his lawn burned. It made his property turn yellow and disgusting; something that he had to wait for fall to change when the heat wasn't so extreme. That made his footsteps make crunching sounds as he walked from his porch to his greenhouse.

He looked through the back window of the greenhouse and onto the street over his back fence. The alarm registered first as the ambulance came up onto his driveway, the lights on, the siren going. A man and a woman jumped from the vehicle and opened the back, pulling out a stretcher.

"Vegas, did I call 911?"

" _ **Not that I am aware…"**_

Alexis felt his head fall forward and he stumbled, the strength in his legs going out. A strong arm wrapped around his stomach and another along his chest as he was eased onto his knees. His vision began to blur and his breathing slowed. Everything began to fade to black as he was slowly brought onto his back. He had been hit in the head with something. His eyes could barely focus on the masked face of the man who caught him before he fell unconscious as the paramedics entered the backyard to take him away.

-Elsewhere-

England. A blond woman, age 28, stays behind on stage, wanting to have a few more minutes on her piano while the rest of the orchestra gathers up to go home. Practice had been difficult as most cold reads were; not having the time to practice beforehand. Rather than go home and practice, she had decided to stay behind and use the better piano.

It had taken twenty five minutes for the rest of the band members to pack up their things and leave the pianist, Patricia Sigot, alone in the theater to play. It had taken another fifteen for most of the staff to leave, and only another three for her to disappear entirely without so much as a whisper.

They only remember her black dress and white high heels.

-Elsewhere-

A tall stressed out man in a wrinkled grey suit made his way down the concrete corridors of his office building. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Tomorrow. He would get a new pair of glasses tomorrow. But right now, he was busy. The report felt heavier the closer he drew to his superior's office, approaching the guard in front of the large metal door.

As he approached the door, the man with the gun put his hand out to stop the man from passing. The lean man lashed out, striking the guard in the arm where the elbow met his forearm, the arm falling back with the strike. Before the man could raise his gun, the man in the grey suit kicked the guard in the side of the leg, the knee buckling, forcing the man down on his own weight. With a quick strike downward, he struck the guard in the side of the head with his closed fist, the man slumping against the floor. It had happened so fast that the guard had not had enough time to ask a question.

The crackling of the loud speakers made the man in the suit's head snap up to the speaker box in the corner of the room. It was a woman's voice.

"Masahiro, I hope that the reason you did that is going to be phenomenally good"

The man pulled down on his wrinkled suit and turned his attention to the security camera above the door and held up the folder to the lens.

"I told that man if he touched me again that I would break him. I don't like it when people hold me back from my objectives…Director"

The woman snapped back

"You will not do that again, Masahiro. Am I clear? You cannot just go around beating people who get in your way"

He pushed his glasses up on his nose again, them almost immediately sliding back down.

"Why not? You do it all the time"

"Get in here!"

The man bowed his head to the camera and opened the large metal door after the buzz that released the magnetic lock. If anything, she just wanted to be alone to work rather than have it for added security.

Director Mitsuru Kirijo sat at her desk, her eyes staring down into the screen of her computer. The room was dark as always, the only light coming from her screen as she sifted through the multitudinous reports and e-mails that had been sent to her within the last 24 hours. It was the strangest thing to watch her work. Alone in an office room under ground with all the lights out and she wore sunglasses to not strain her eyes under the glare of the computer screen.

She removed her eyes from the screen to look at Masahiro before she snapped her fingers and pointed to the seat opposite her desk. Masahiro was quick to sit where she had indicated and folded his hands on his lap over the folder

"If you ever strike my personnel again, Masahiro, I won't fire you or cut your pay. You are ok with that. If you damage my people again, I will remove you from the project. Do I make myself clear?"

Masahiro shifted, physically uncomfortable

"You wouldn't dare…"

She leaned over her desk, her hand outstretched for the file

"Try me…"

Masahiro sighed heavily and handed her the file

"I will be more delicate next time"

"You better be. Report"

Masahiro sat back in his chair.

"All the members of the team have been assembled. Our boys picked up the last two almost an hour ago."

Masahiro flipped through a small notebook that he pulled from his breast pocket.

"Hunter Anderson, age twenty one, Russian decent, and Hiro Yugara. Age eighteen, Japanese decent. Look at that. We got one of our own."

He flipped through a few more pages of noted before setting the book back into his suits breast pocket.

"All pieces are on the board. Save for our king, of course. Have you decided which of the two candidates will be chosen?"

Mitsuru leaned back in her seat and pulled off her sunglasses, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger.

"No. they are a hard pair to decide between. We will just have to wait for one of them to slip up. They are government agents after all. It's not like the others who can easily disappear. If we were to black bag one of them, it would get us in an amount of trouble my connections can't make go away…"

"So we wait…"

"The project will continue as planned. Keep your eyes on them. Construction will continue regardless. As for the pieces we already have, begin training and molding. The project waits for no one. The team must be able to work efficiently with or without its leader"

"Very well, Director. I will have training begin as soon as they arrive"

Masahiro stood from his seat, making his way back to the door he entered from.

"Masahiro …"

He paused by the door, turning to face her

"Director?"

Mitsuru chewed the inside of her lip for a moment before looking up to him

"Be gentle with them. Please. They will never forgive us for what we're doing"

Masahiro bowed slightly

"I understand entirely, Director"

 **Time Until Incident:**

 **1 year: 8 months: 6 days: 7 hours: 46 minutes**

 **Time until** **Déchaîner**

 **2 years: 11 month: 31 days: 8 hours: 17 minutes:**


	3. Chapter 2

**Time Until Incident:**

 **5 months: 1 day: 13 hours: 4 minutes**

 **Time until** **Déchaîner**

 **2 year: 8 months: 26 days: 13 hours: 35 minutes**

With her heart thundering in her head, Detective Naoto Shirogane, Shield and sword of the Reign-beaux agency, took the necessary moments to calm herself down as the armored van bumped along the road. She slowed her breathing and closed her eyes. Her fingers were tight with the adrenaline that was rushing through her body. Sirens blared in her ears and she opened her eyes finally as the last corner was turned.

She pulled back on the lockup of her revolver and twisted her wrist to knock the cylinder out of place to see how many bullets she had in their chambers. She was full. With another snap of her wrist, the cylinder locked back into place and she holstered the gun along the holster on her breast. Then she drew her sword.

Several of the other police officers leaned back to allow her to draw her blade that gleamed in the fraction of light in the back of that vehicle. Raising it up to eye level, she stared down the steel to ensure it was perfect and that not a dull inch could be seen. As usual it was. As usual her gun had bullets in it. She just felt so much better checking it again before the point of no return.

"Do you really think that sword will protect you in there, Detective?"

Another of the masked police officers spoke to her as he stared down the sight of his rifle, calibrating it for his preferred distance; a rookie move inside a moving vehicle. She slid the sword back into the sheath at her side

"If I was to draw this against you, do you think you could raise that weapon to prevent me from striking before I got to you?"

The other officers glanced to the man with the rifle, their sergeant who was "leading" the assault, but he did not respond. Instead he called out to the man driving.

"How much longer?"

"45 seconds, Sir"

At that, Naoto got up from her seat and faced the door to the back of the van. Pulling back on her gloves, she crouched down and planted her feet firmly on the rubber floor like a runner waiting for the gun. The ear piece she had in had a man speaking to her feeding her instructions.

Far away, that man was looking at the target building, sliding around on a rolling chair to feed her data on what was going on at the scene of the assault.

"Ok, detective, once those doors open you can expect immediate resistance. Security cameras from across the street show five in the windows overlooking the plaza. I would suggest making your way around the left side of the building and entering through the receiving dock. With any luck we can be home in time for lunch. Good thing too. My daughter has softball this evening"

Naoto smiled.

"How is Annabelle?"

"She's good."

"And my wolf? What's his position?"

The man looked to a computer at the opposite end of his desk and sighed

"He's on the rooftops"

Three months ago, Detective Naoto Shirogane and Detective Sebastian Chastity, the finest swords and shields of Reign-beaux, were contracted to take down a powerful group of thieves who called themselves The Senators. There were twelve of them.

Eight men and four women made up the group lead by a woman named Felicity. She and her band of merry cohorts had been plaguing the financial sector for almost nine months. They were incredibly talented as thieves. For the most part, the group could operate without incident. They could make their way into a facility, bank, store, warehouse, or compound, steal what they needed without rousing suspicion and leave without a trace.

Computers would freeze, cameras would malfunction, entire city blocks would go black, vault doors would be burned or cracked, and The Senators would be undetected. But today was not the day they had hopped it to be. On this day, The Senators had worked out a heist at a particular bank in Germany where they were projected to make it out with over forty million dollars in cash.

The plan had gone perfectly until one man with IBS had dashed down one of the halls and collided with one of the twelve as he tried to pick a door. The hallway was to be clear at that point. It would have been ok and the Senator could have subdued the man and hidden the body, but he had soiled himself in the collision and the smell attracted everyone's attention.

It seemed to Naoto to be such a shame considering that she had already been able to pinpoint the next location of one of their heists. Sebastian and she had been on the trail for weeks and knew the Senators wanted out. Greed, however, found a way. It's only in movies that the last big heist goes off perfectly.

Instead of Naoto and Sebastian going in and taking care of the group quietly with little effort and with the assistance of the bank guards and private security, now the bank had been turned into a war zone. There were hostages now and she was going in as a last resort rather than a first one. It angered her that it had taken this long for the German police to take her and Sebastian seriously even on orders from their superiors. But at this point in time, it hardly surprised her. She had wondered and now she knew: Yes. It was always like this.

The building itself was a piece of art; great stone walls and pillars almost four stories high. A great glass dome ceiling that had been shattered by gunfire much to Sebastian's dismay, marble floors and shiny brass handrails along the staircases inside, stone statues of lions both outside and inside, beautiful carpeting that was cleaned once a week; the Germans were a clean people though not as much as the Swiss; and beautiful leather couches and chairs for patrons to wait in for their turn at the tellers. Now it was all scrap.

"You're lucky you're in that vehicle, detective. Agent Chastity has already engaged"

Naoto wanted to spit on the floor but swallowed her venom instead. He was getting too reckless and violent for his own good. It was a problem that she was unsure she could control with a kiss or a hug anymore. They hadn't had sex in months.

Rolling her shoulder back, she braced against the floor as the armored car reversed into position and the magnetic lock was released, unsealing the vehicle.

"Yamato, concentrate the physical exertion on my arms and shoulders. Let them bear the damage."

'Understood, darling'

The moment that the doors opened, Naoto broke from the vehicle like a bullet from a rifle. She smashed the doors open with her shoulders which caused them to fly open and collide with the outside of the vehicle. She was out before the first enemy bullet left its barrel and struck the concrete where a normal human being would have been cut down. Instead she dashed behind a police car and followed its line to a van that was riddled with bullets.

Gunfire echoed in her ears but the world was in slow motion for her as she ran. She was an incredibly fast runner. She was terribly difficult to hit. As she moved for another police car, she rolled along its roof and deliberately put herself in enemy sights. She was certain it did not matter.

She was ahead of the bullets as they came at her and she weaved her path through the vehicles until she made it to the loading dock. Her back hurt but she was barely out of breath. Training had really paid off.

"Yamato, put the strain on my legs now. I won't need them as much going forward."

'Understood.'

"I need the receiving door opened to gain access"

"and…"

The metal door began to retract upwards with a groaning of machinery.

"You're in, Detective. You're on your own from here."

Naoto took the ear piece out and tucked it into her breast pocket. Drawing her sword, she entered the concrete receiving bay. It was empty so she made her way to the doorway between the bay and the bank. All doors were open. They had no need for locks now.

"Volf…can you hear me?"

There was silence in response.

"Seb? Are you there?"

Leaning around the corner of the doorway, she glanced down the hallway that lead to the main hall of the bank. Inside would have been the tellers counter, the loan department, waiting room, managers' office, and foyer. She saw two men with guns and leaned back around the doorway and sheathed her sword. Too early. Too early for combat.

Leaning back around the corner, she made a dash down the hall towards the stairwell to get to the second floor which looked down on the first. The door was already open and she ducked inside quickly, kneeling down the moment she heard footsteps on the metal stairs above her. They were coming down, undoubtedly going to see what that noise in the loading dock was.

Quickly Naoto made her way to the base of the staircase, crouching down along the bottom platform, invisible to anyone not paying attention. She wanted to grab for her sword but knew that it would only hinder her if she did. She thought about her gun but knew if she fired it then she would draw attention to herself. She pulled back on her gloves tightly.

The man who walked down the stairs had a pistol in his hand with the hammer pulled back. All it would take was a squeeze of the trigger to set it off. He was tall and well-built like an athlete. He had very little gear on him. The way he walked and the way he handled the gun made it clear to her that he was a grease man; someone who was meant to get into tight places and use acrobatics to break into buildings. A rare breed now in a digital age.

Naoto made her move just as the man walked off the last step onto the landing. She twisted the man's wrist so the gun was aimed up into the base of his neck. He swung with his other arm but she threw her elbow into the punch, the man breaking two fingers. He opened his mouth to scream but she struck him in the throat and the noise came out garbled and hoarse. No one would hear it. She shoved him against the wall behind the door, the gun still aimed under his neck.

She pinned his other arm against the wall with her own, staring the man in the face, talking quietly

"If you pull that trigger, the others will hear you but you will die. Is it worth it?"

The man swallowed hard and slowly released the hammer.

"The safety…"

The man pressed his thumb against the safety to engage it. With that, slowly Naoto leaned off the man, releasing his hand and wrist with the gun. He nodded at her. He was forged to perform and not to fight. He was grateful.

"Thank you…"

Naoto nodded.

"Of course"

She struck him hard on the ride of his head, the force carrying the man into the wall with the strike. His body seized up for a moment before he went limp and fell to the ground. Naoto closed the stairwell door and locked it before pulling the man over to the handrail and handcuffed him to the beams. He would be fine here for a little while.

Gunfire made her look upward and press herself against the wall. Then there was a scream and the gunfire stopped for a moment before continuing. Sebastian was busy on the upper floors. She only hoped he wasn't doing anything foolish. She had told that boy not to do anything rash or foolish. As angry at him as she was, she wanted him home safe.

Making her way up the first set of stairs, she stepped over the body of a dead security guard with three bullets in his back. Poor bastard probably never stood a chance. Yamato spoke to her.

'Sweetheart, there is another person behind the door at the top of the first floor staircase. You might be able to subdue them if you surprise them.'

Naoto stood on the top of the second stairwell landing. There was a door to her right, a door in front of her, and the stairs leading to the next floor above her. She traced over the blueprints of the building in her mind and knew that the door on her right lead to a servicing walkway that ran along the outside of the building. It was unlocked for the gunners.

"Where is he?"

'Forward'

Naoto braced herself against the wall and knocked on the door

"They got one of our guys!"

The door opened and an older woman with long brown hair walked through the doorway. She carried an automatic rifle in one hand and a cigarette in the other which she quickly put into her mouth as she went to go down the stairs. Naoto dropped her with one hard punch to the back of the head and caught the woman so she did not fall down the stairs.

Dragging the woman's body, Naoto pulled her out the side door onto the walkway and tied the woman to the hand railing with the rifle shoulder strap. She would be out for a few minutes.

Naoto ducked down and gripped onto her sword tightly when she heard gunshots coming from the roof. Between the automatic rifle fire she could hear single rounds being discharged. She knew that sound. The sound always echoed in her head when she heard it. Sebastian was engaging them directly.

There was a scream and one of the rifles stopped firing. There was murmuring and then screaming of a woman again. Naoto followed the sounds and made her way onto the second floor of the inside of the building.

On the opposite end of the building, three more of The Senators had put their guns down and had their hands up. They yelled up to the roof as they got down on their knees with their hands on their heads as they kept calling up to the roof.

Naoto understood now. These people were thieves, not mercenaries. They were not soldiers. This was entirely new territory for them. They wanted money, not blood. Whatever it was they were looking at was enough to make them realize that it was better to quit while ahead and while they were still in one piece. Naoto took off at a run, sheathed her sword and drew her pistol, aiming it around the corners before she ran at the three men who kneeled down.

"Stay down! On the ground! All of you!"

The thieves got down on their stomachs and put their hands on their heads. Naoto, with her free hand, put the ear piece back in.

"Jake, tell the police to move inside. Most of them are giv-"

"Naoto! Get that psycho under control!"

Naoto turned to the roof, up the third floor and through the shattered glass ceiling. Up above, a woman was standing on the edge of the roof with her hands up, murmuring to the figure in front of her. It was Sebastian.

His hair had grown out a little from his normal length. And he kept it in a small ponytail along the back of his head. He looked tired and a little unkempt in his face even though his suit was still immaculate. He held his handgun out in front of him, the barrel pointed against the woman's chest. Felicity.

"Sebastian!"

The look in Sebastian's face was determination, fury, and Naoto knew that at that moment he had a misguided sense of righteousness. His hand was shaking and his teeth were clenched. He was fighting back against himself.

"Sebastian, stop! They gave up! Cuff her and bring her down!"

Sebastian held the gun firm on the woman and he started to cry, letting out little whimpering noises and howls like the wolf he was.

"Sebastian! Please!"

Down below, the doors of the bank burst open and several police officers began to rush into the building. Civilians ran towards them and left the thieves in the open who all kneeled down. Several members of the group made their way from the second floor to the bottom, unarmed and with their hands on their heads.

'What is he doing? He should just let her go'

Naoto took off running towards the stairwell

"He's not going to let her go. He's going to shoot her"

Naoto quickly made her way up to the roof, shoving her way through the door that led to the roof.

"Sebastian!"

He did not turn to look at her when she called out his name. When she finally focused on his surroundings, she found three dead on the rooftop; their bodies sprawled out on the gravel.

"My god…Sebastian, what have you done?"

Sebastian still did not answer. He just held the gun to the woman in front of him, his finger ready to pull the trigger at the slightest moment. Slowly Naoto approached him, taking care to make her presence known and not make any attempts to stop him. He had gone too far this time in his lashing out. She knew he was a better shot to wound or disable than to kill. He had gone too far. No doubt it would be considered self-defense on his report, but she still hated it. She was never able to look at him the same after Simon.

"Sebastian…what are you doing?"

He still said nothing, but the woman finally broke eye contact with him to look at Naoto. She went to speak but Naoto put her finger against her lips to signal silence.

"If I were you right now, I would not say a word…"

Naoto walked up beside the two of them, looking into Sebastian's good eye. He was struggling and straining. He looked terribly upset as he held his gun against the woman.

"Sebastian…Seb…did you take your medication today?"

Sebastian broke eye contact with the woman to look at Naoto only quickly before back to the woman. He shook his head quickly. Naoto needed to remain collected and calm as she spoke. One wrong move and this woman would die.

"Ahh. That explains a lot. Does your head hurt?"

Sebastian nodded.

"You know I hate it when you're upset…"

Sebastian's gun slowly started to lower as Naoto talked him down. He sighed and closed his eye, his shoulders slumping. His gun was so heavy to him now.

"Promise me you won't kill her."

Naoto slowly reached up. She was going to go for the gun, but instead went for Sebastian, running her fingers through his hair and along his scalp. His head leaned into the touch and he bit his lower lip as though he was trying to stop himself from crying.

"Promise me…"

Sebastian finished lowering his gun and let it fall from his hand onto the gravel rooftop. She turned him towards herself and took both sides of his head in her hands. His voice was on the precipice of breaking.

"I'm sorry…"

Naoto nodded and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

"We're going to talk about this later. Understand? I'm very disappointed with you…"

Sebastian nodded in her hands and sniffed back a cry as the first of his tears ran down his face. The woman, Felicity, finally let out a sigh of relief and looked at Naoto.

"Thank you"

Naoto tried to pull Sebastian away from the woman, but he reeled back his fist and delivered a hard punch to the side of her head. Off balance, Felicity began to fall backwards and was about to lose her footing and plummet to the marble floor below when Sebastian grabbed onto the collar of her shirt and struck her again in the nose. Felicity fell backwards but was pulled forward by Sebastian who threw her to the ground as he kept striking her. He screamed at her.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"

Naoto tried to pry Sebastian off of the woman but could not get a grip on him. By this time, several other police officers had made their way to the roof and rushed at Sebastian, grabbing onto his arms and legs and pulling her off the motionless body of Felicity. He kicked and screamed at them to get off but they overwhelmed him. Sebastian was a great fighter, but he could not take down several police officers in heavy tactical gear if all he had was his suit, weaponless, and fueled by rage rather than using his brain.

Another of the police officers approached Naoto as they held Sebastian down, handcuffing his hands behind his back as he struggled and kicked and squirmed underneath them. She had her hand drawn to her mouth, biting her thumb to keep herself from saying anything to the officers wrestling him.

"Shirogane, what the hell kind of game is Reign-Beaux playing? Letting this animal into the field?"

Naoto rubbed her eyes.

"Please don't hurt him. He is very unwell. I will take full responsibility for his actions."

The man shook his head.

"You will do no such thing. He will be held responsible for his own actions. My men can handle him"

Sebastian threw his head back into one of the officers, striking the man's nose with the back of his head. The officer reeled backwards and fell onto his back, cupping his face. Naoto shook her head.

"We may need some more men to tame this beast"

Naoto made her move towards the scene, pushing some of the officers out of her way and shoving others with physical force or threats. When it was just her and Sebastian, she rolled him over onto his back and slapped him hard across the face. The strike broke through his rampage and he looked clearly at her. She pulled on his hair and struck him again across the same cheek. When she raised her hand to do it again, he flinched and she lowered her arm, pointing at him.

"Stop it!"

When he went to speak, she raised her hand again and he flinched harder this time

"Are you going to stop?"

Sebastian nodded and looked around frantically at the other police officers

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

He looked at the officer he had struck in the nose, blood running down his face but the nose wasn't broken.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean it"

Naoto got off Sebastian.

"Get up!"

Sebastian rolled onto his stomach and got up onto his knees, his hands still behind his back as he stood up. He looked around at the officers on the rooftop.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry…"

He looked to the body of Felicity, her face swollen and purple and bloody. She was alive. He knew she was. She was just broken

"Did…did I do that?"

Naoto pushed him along

"Get going, Seb."

Sebastian nodded after a moment and began to walk back down the stairway into the bank, keeping his head down and his thoughts to himself as he was helped into one of the police cruisers, Naoto securing Sebastian in the back before getting into the front and waiting for another officer to take them back to their hotel.

It had never been this bad. It had been difficult before but it had never been this bad. He had always been able to maintain his composure and professionalism, holding himself back from throwing a punch or spitting out an insult, but as of late things had just gotten more difficult for him.

It had started six months after Naoto has begun to work for Reign-Beaux. One night, after hours of passionate love making, Sebastian had woken up in a cold sweat, screaming about spiders. He had crawled from his bed and back up into the corner of the room, covering his face with his arms and screaming. It had alerted the neighbors and they had received several calls about noise complaints from the front desk of the hotel Sebastian lived atop of.

Sebastian had eventually come to his senses, crawling his way to the toilet before throwing up and spending the night passed out on the floor of the bathroom. Naoto had stayed with him all night, laying down several towels for him to sleep on and to keep him warm. In the morning, they had gone to a doctor who asked several question but ultimately did nothing. Sebastian was in peak physical and mental shape.

In the months that followed, Sebastian only got worse. He stopped eating and stopped sleeping. He would wonder around the two separate floors of his penthouse all night long, whispering to himself or he would spend his night in the kitchen drinking something expensive that was meant to last a year or two in a matter of hours.

The drinking didn't bother Naoto. Sebastian wasn't a clumsy drunk or a violent drunk. He would just get tipsy and need a hand into the bedroom or onto the couch in the living room where he would sleep for a few hours and wake up again in a sweat.

One night Naoto found him alone in one of the rooms of his suite, crying quietly in a chair and letting out small howls like a wounded wolf. She sat down beside him on the floor and wrapped an arm around his leg, staying with him while he wept. She loved him so terribly.

Finally Naoto got him to go see a doctor who had explained to Naoto that Sebastian was showing signs of a terrible and deep depression brought on by a great trauma and stress. Naoto kept her mouth shut about Simon and Anansi. The doctor had prescribed Sebastian several different kinds of medication which had managed to calm his down for the most part.

One night while Sebastian was passed out on the couch, she sat down and thought about the events that had taken place at the end of Case 463. Sebastian had thrown himself into a brick wall several times and come out alive but not unscathed or untested. He had lost an eye and had his bones broken several times. Their lives had been spared from the nightmare spider and her puppet boy only through sacrifice, struggle, and luck.

Sebastian had been moving too quickly to get them prepared for their confrontation with Simon in order to deal with his own issues that would obviously arise from such a task. But now that the fight was over and they could relax a little bit, the adrenaline wore off and reality had come crashing down on the two of them with Sebastian getting the brunt of the damage.

Naoto had her own problems to deal with now and her own emotional and physical trauma. Her hands shook slightly now and she did not trust herself with her gun anymore, finding it unpleasant to even look at what she carried, regardless how necessary it was to carry one in her line of work. Because of the shadows that she had fought and the power she now knew they held, she no longer wanted children, afraid they too would be influenced by such beasts of which Naoto would be unable to stop.

These, however, were her problems. She would take the necessary steps to get over her own mental and physical trauma. She also knew that Sebastian would, in good time, get over his as well with therapy, medication, and lots of love. She knew that the two of them, not wanting to see each other suffer, would drag the other through recovery. She was very happy to have Sebastian to rely on and she knew that Sebastian would rely on her. They were inseparable.

This, Naoto understood. But she could not shake the feeling that there was something she was missing. Something was wrong with how Sebastian was acting, trauma be damned. That did not explain the noises he made. This did not explain his uncontrollable rage. This did not explain his unbridled fury at the world around him enough to put his own job and the lives of people in danger. She knew that the director would have some very harsh words for Sebastian and her when they got back home.

As Naoto looked into the rearview mirror of the police car as the officer drove them back to the police station to change, report, and get into their own vehicle to head back to their hotel, she could not help but want to be back there with him. He looked pathetic; hunched over in his seat, rubbing the side of his head and face against the window, trembling and crying silently. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to console him and hold him against her and rock him back and forth and tell him everything would be ok. But as she looked back out the window at the city landscape passing by, she knew that a line had been crossed today that Sebastian couldn't take back. He was somewhere now all on his own and wouldn't let her near. He needed his medication and he needed some sleep.

This had all taken such a toll on their relationship. They loved one another to death but there were certain places that, no matter how much you loved someone, you were never meant to be; a place where you could not follow your lover. Sebastian was there. She couldn't follow him. She was doing her best but…

She didn't want to think of the 'but' as they arrived at the station. She pulled Sebastian out of the vehicle and took her uniform jacket off, throwing it over Sebastian's shoulders. The jacket Kanji had made her for, the uniform Sebastian had commissioned for her. The one that made her look like a warrior and maintain the beauty he claimed…

She felt a small smile wash across her face for only a moment when she remembered how beautiful he thought she was. He deserved better than this as she put her arms around him like a kidnap victim and lead him into the station to get changed. She had to be with him or who knew what he would do? Would he run? Would he try to hurt himself or others? She wouldn't take that chance. She would be the only one who could stop him and so she needed to be with him.

In the change room, she sat him down on the bench and opened her locker, taking out their bags. Inside his was his medication. Taking her water bottle, she took his three pill bottles and gave him his three pills. She stood there and made sure he took them. She knew he hated it but it really was for the best. Within five minutes of her getting changed, Sebastian was a zombie and did what he was told as she helped him get changed into a different suit.

Sitting him down, she kneeled in front of him and cupped his cheeks, looking into his glazed eyes. She had to lift his eyelids to make sure he was looking at her.

"Hey…"

Sebastian didn't respond at first but his eyes eventually focused on her face

"Are you feeling alright?"

Again it took a moment for him to respond but eventually he shook his head no.

She stood up and drew his head into her stomach, running her fingers through his hair. He brought his arms up and wrapped them around her, squeezing her as tight as he was able considering the medication made him feel so weak. She lifted his head up to look at her,

"Do you want to fly home tomorrow?"

He was quicker on the response to nod his head.

"Alright. I'll talk to the director to get us home"

Sebastian nodded and closed his good eye

"Can we go back to the hotel now?"

Naoto nodded and began to pet him again

"We can go back now. Come on…up we get."


End file.
